The young man addressed as Henry slouched up with a faint trace of Lenardo’s swagger, but my sharp “Step lively!” electrified him into firmer action, and his grin went sour.
“Hobart!” I next called. I selected him for the third, for I knew his independent, rebellious nature, his courage and pride, and wished the severest test of the discipline to come at once.
Because we had been good friends and he knew that I respected him, he stared incredulously, but found me a stranger. Then a vicious look flared in his face, and, still sitting, he fingered the handle of a heavy iron vessel on the table while regarding me defiantly.
I waited, and then called him again.
“I won’t be made a fool of in this way!” he cried, rising, his face blazing, his hold on the iron vessel tightening.
“You two guards on the left, do your duty!” I commanded.
They hesitatingly advanced upon him. Making a great scattering of frightened women and children, Hobart stepped back, brandished the vessel, and shouted:
“I’m a free American citizen, I am! I’m a law-abiding man and I know my rights! Stand back, there,” to the guards, “or I’ll———”
“Two more guards from the left. Step lively!” I called.
The advance of the four guards was checked by a diversion. Mr. Vancouver, who had been sitting in apathetic silence, suddenly spoke out with biting clearness: